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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22972990">Apt. 205</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roadside_Wildflower/pseuds/Roadside_Wildflower'>Roadside_Wildflower</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pitch Perfect (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Babysitting, Emily is Beca's adorable &amp; outspoken kid, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Parenthood, Poverty, Single Parents</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:01:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,201</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22972990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roadside_Wildflower/pseuds/Roadside_Wildflower</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca is a struggling single mom. Chloe is a broke college super-senior two doors down.</p><p>And somehow, they fall in love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Beca</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a love song to all the so-called "trashy" young single moms out there. People can be stupid and judgemental sometimes but y'all deserve the world :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beca eats another hot cheeto.</p><p>"Mommy, can I have one?"</p><p>"Sorry, kid. These ain't exactly health food." Beca pushes the apartment door open and brisk mid-January Georgia air rushes by to meet them. Fuck, it's cold. She looks over at Emily in her threadbare hoodie. Hopefully it's warm enough.</p><p>Emily pouts. "But you're eating one."</p><p>They plod down the steps of their apartment complex, the dim night making it hard to know where to step. "I am, but you shouldn't do everything your mom does. She ain't exactly a saint, if you know what I mean."</p><p>"A saint? What's that?"</p><p>Beca sighs. Another point of moral failure that her dad would probably lecture her on, if he were still in her life. Emily's never seen the inside of a church, so far as she's aware. And that's probably not going to change any time soon, if ever. "Don't worry about it, sweetie."</p><p>Emily nods. "So can I have one?" she says, tapping the cheetos bag.</p><p>"No." They start walking down the cracked slabs of concrete that pass for sidewalks in the city.</p><p>"But I want one," she moans.</p><p>"Nope," Beca says, punctuating it with the crunch of another cheeto in her mouth.</p><p>Emily starts whining. "But Mommy."</p><p>"No."</p><p>"You're always so mean after you come home from work."</p><p>"You're just lucky I only work during school hours."</p><p>"See? Mean. And you know a good Mommy would give me one."</p><p>Beca shakes her head. "Kid, you're only seven. How the hell did you get so brutal?"</p><p>"Learned it from you."</p><p>"Guess you did."</p><p>"So can I have one?"</p><p>Beca sighs. "Fine, just one. But you're not going to like it."</p><p>Emily's face brightens up and she thrusts her hand into the bag. A moment later, her face is scrunched up in disgust. "These are horrible."</p><p>"What did I tell you?"</p><p>"I want another," she says, hand diving in again.</p><p>Does this count as another parenting failure? Beca's not sure at this point. But Emily's wicked smart at least, so she did something right there.</p><p>Emily takes another and sticks her tongue out.</p><p>Beca reaches for one but the bag is empty. "Really, kid?"</p><p>"Really."</p><p>Beca sighs again. She does a lot of sighing, at work and home. But they're at the 7-11 anyways, it doesn't really matter. She throws away the wrapper at the trashcan outside</p><p>They step inside, door chiming behind them, and Emily rushes to the pre-prepared food section. Beca follows behind much slower, slippers sliding against the store's nasty tile.</p><p>"I want this," Emily says, tapping at a sandwich.</p><p>Beca shakes her head. "Let's go for a burrito."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"Because it's better for you, and you already had junk food today," Beca lies. She doesn't know if it's really any healthier. It's probably not. But the burrito is like a third of the price so that's the one they're getting.</p><p>Emily groans and grabs a burrito. "You're no fun."</p><p>"I know, sweetie. Believe me, I know." Beca grabs one for herself, and then two for tomorrow as well for good measure, and they head over to the counter.</p><p>Before they get there, a group of three bougie-ass frat boys, with slicked-back hair, khaki pants, and polo shirts, walk into their path.</p><p>"Nice PJs," one of the boys snickers. "Big cookie moster fan?"</p><p>"Oh fuck you." Beca gives him the finger. They had no right. And besides, Emily had picked them out for her.</p><p>Oh, right. Emily. She probably shouldn't be cursing in front of her. Fuck. Another parenting failure.</p><p>"Fuck me? Sorry, I don't sleep with hoes who raw dog it," he says. His stupid little frat friends holler and whoop.</p><p>"Mommy, what's a raw dog?" Emily asks.</p><p>Before Beca can say anything, one of the frat boys cuts in again. "Don't worry, you little fucker. If your momma's any example, you'll learn soon enough."</p><p>Beca's anger surges. She's always had a temper, but fuck is she angry now. How could the fucker even-- "Keep talking," she says, cracking her knuckles, "and the next time you see your momma it'll be in a body bag."</p><p>The boy laughs. "Seriously? That's the best you can come up with? A little midget bitch like you?"</p><p>Beca hurls herself at the boy, but before she can get there, the cashier is there between them. And thankfully (for the boys of course), she's super buff and holds Beca back.</p><p>"If y'all are gonna fight," she says, voice a low growl, "you take that shit outside, okay?"</p><p>The boys roll their eyes and head over to the freezer section.</p><p>Beca deflates a little. "Thanks, Cynthia."</p><p>"No worries. Anything for my favorite customer."</p><p>They walk back to the counter together. Emily is awkwardly silent. Beca isn't sure what Emily makes of it when she sees things like that. It scares her, sometimes. She doesn't want to scar her kid. But she feels like she's helpless not to.</p><p>Cynthia rings up their things. "That gonna be all?"</p><p>"Get me a pack of Newports, too." Beca doesn't like buying cigs in front of Emily. But her hands are trembling and she needs something to calm herself down.</p><p>Cynthia just nods though with no judgment.</p><p>Beca takes out her credit card, sends a quick prayer to whatever cruel god is in charge of her finances, and hopes it goes through. It does. She sighs in relief when Cynthia gives it back to her with the food.</p><p>"Enjoy your night," Cynthia says.</p><p>"You too."</p><p>Beca and Emily walk out of the door, plodding down the sidewalk in silence. Hands fumbling, Beca takes out a cig and lights it, plastic bag dangling awkwardly from her hands as she shields it from the wind.</p><p>She takes in a couple of puffs, and slowly, her hands stop trembling and her shoulder sag in relief a little.</p><p>Eventually, Emily speaks. "I love you, Mommy."</p><p>"I love you too."</p><p>They reach their apartment complex, a busted up motel-turned-apartment building that caters to the lowest of the low. She was pretty sure the chick next door dealt crack, but it was what should could afford.</p><p>Her phone starts ringing. She checks it. "Fuck," she whispers under her breath. It's her boss. She picks up.</p><p>"Audrey," Beca says cordially. There isn't much love loss between the too of them, but she's learned over the last seven years to suck up and kiss ass for the good of her kid.</p><p><em>"Beca,"</em> the other woman says curtly. <em>"I'm moving your shift."</em></p><p>"What?" Beca starts climbing up the steps. "You can't do that!"</p><p>The voice on the other side is cold and uncaring. <em>"I can and will, if you want to keep your job at my diner."</em></p><p>"But-- I got a kid." Beca stops near the top of the stairs. "I <em>have</em> to work day hours."</p><p>
  <em>"You still will. But I need you to work weekends now. And you know I can't afford to have you on full time."</em>
</p><p>"What does that mean?" Beca is faintly aware of a reddish blur at the top of the steps, but she ignores it.</p><p>
  <em>"It means you'll work Saturday and Sunday, instead of Monday and Tuesday."</em>
</p><p>"Audrey. I can't afford to hire a babysitter for the entire fucking weekend."</p><p><em>"Take her to work with you then, provided she's not a distraction or a hazard."</em> Emily tugs at her but Beca ignores it.</p><p>"She's seven. Of course she's going to be a distraction and a hazard."</p><p>
  <em>"Your problem, not mine. I expect you at work tomorrow."</em>
</p><p>The call disconnects.</p><p>Beca curses again. The weekends are like the only time she gets to actually be a decent parent to her kid. It's infuriating that Posen would want to take that from her. She feels the urge to punch something but instead takes a deep breath in.</p><p>"Um, excuse me?" A hoarse voice asks from atop the steps.</p><p>"Yeah, I'll get out of your damn way now," Beca says, climbing up the steps and pushing past her young neighbor from a couple doors down. "Young." Her neighbor was probably around 23 as well. From what she's seen (though admittedly she hasn't seen much, except the occasional glimpse of a nice ass), she doesn't seem quite as young as a lot of college students, but she's definitely a college student.</p><p>"That's not what I--"</p><p>Becca doesn't stay to hear the response. Instead, she grabs Emily's hand and they retreat inside their apartment to eat their 7-11 burritos.</p><p>Fuck, can she never catch a break.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm on like day three of the flu so if this is awful I'm sorry!</p><p>Between work and life and my non-fanfic creative writing, I'm pretty busy. Updates will come as they come, so if you like the story then you should probably subscribe. I might throw another chapter up today though? I'm kind of digging this story :)</p><p>Also, I don't usually like alternating perspectives since imo it can take out a lot of the dramatic irony, but I'm gonna do that from chapter to chapter chapter in this fic bc I feel like their perspectives are so different that it's important to show</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chloe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chloe stares at the door, working up the nerve to knock. She looks down at the dish of banana pudding in her hands, suddenly doubting her choice of desert. Is banana a common allergy? It seems like something she should know. But it's too late for that now.</p><p>She takes a deep breath in and finally knocks on the door.</p><p>She waits. And waits. But no one responds.</p><p>Chloe considers knocking again. She wants to, because she wants to make sure her neighbor heard her, but she doesn't want to come off as impatient or needy, especially since they haven't really met and--</p><p>The door cracks open. Moral dilemma solved.</p><p>The woman stares at Chloe for a long second with intense eyes, dark as Georgia dirt.</p><p>"What's up?" the other woman asks after a prolonged silence.</p><p>Chloe blushes, finally realizing that she had been frozen in place. "Oh, um, I'm your neighbor from two doors down, in 207, and I made some banana pudding so I was wondering if you might want any."</p><p>The other woman glances down at the container. "Why?"</p><p>"Um." Chloe fumbles to find the words. "I thought it might-- I thought I would--" she sighs. "I'm sorry, I guess I don't know what I was thinking."</p><p>"No, you're, um," the other woman clears her throat. "You're good. Great actually. I love banana pudding. It's just not the kind of thing that anyone in this apartment complex would normally do." She tucks her raven hair back behind her ears, and Chloe swoons a little. Chloe's always had a thing for the dark and mysterious types. And older women. And moms. Not that she's ever slept with one or anything, she just likes to look at them sometimes. Or something like that.</p><p>Lord, is she totally screwed.</p><p>It's only after Chloe realizes how much time she's spent staring at the other woman without responding that she notices the heat rising in her own cheeks again. "Well I-- I guess it just sounded like you were having a hard time earlier, and I thought it might make you and your kid feel a bit better."</p><p>"Yeah, thanks then." The other woman pauses. "You wanna come in and have some with us?" The door opens a little wider.</p><p>"Um, yeah. I'd love too." And Chloe just hopes she doesn't sound too eager. But who is she kidding, she <em>always</em> sounds too eager. It's her defining trait. It's what makes her so great with kids.</p><p>"I'm Beca, by the way."</p><p>"Chloe."</p><p>"Sorry, it's a bit of a mess," Beca says, guiding her over to the little kitchen area.</p><p>And it is a mess. Like, major mess, with dishes and laundry and trash scattered throughout. Not quite gross mess, but the desperately-in-need-of-a-cleaning-day kind of mess. Chloe's been guilty of that before too though, when she hit that nasty depressive spell last year.</p><p>But it's better not to dwell on that.</p><p>"My apartment is just as bad," Chloe assures her. Which is mostly a lie, at least for how she lives now. But she does have a week's worth of dishes piled up in her sink, so at least that's something she has Beca beat at.</p><p>She watches as Beca abruptly stops and leans down pick up a wrapper on the floor. The back of Becca's shirt rides up, exposing a tattoo of the name "Emily" with angel wings around it. And damn, it's kind of trashy but also lowkey… kinda hot? The accompanying swoop in her stomach confirms it.</p><p>Yep, she has the hots for her neighbor.</p><p>Chloe is suddenly starting to doubt the "altruism" of her coming over here.</p><p>"It's just hard to find the time to clean, between work and taking care of Emily and life and stuff."</p><p>"Right. No worries."</p><p>They get to the plastic dinner table and Chloe sets down the dish.</p><p>"Emily!" Beca calls. "Banana pudding's on the table!"</p><p>A few seconds later, a dark streak of energy hurtles out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. The kid stops when she sees Chloe though, eyes dancing with weariness. "Mommy, who is this?"</p><p>"This is Chloe. She's our neighbor, over in apartment..."</p><p>"207," Chloe confirms. She bends her knees down so that she's close to eye level with the kid. "It's very nice to meet you, Emily. What grade are you in?"</p><p>"Second," she says, arms crossed. "What grade are you in?"</p><p>Chloe laughs a little at that. "Oh no, I'm not in school." She pauses. "Or, well, I guess I sort of am. I'm in my fifth year of college."</p><p>"Isn't college supposed to be four years?"</p><p>Chloe blushes a little at that. "It is, normally."</p><p>Beca speaks up. "Huh, I guess that makes us about the same age then. 23?"</p><p>Chloe's feels another flush wash over her face. It feels like all she's done is blush the entire night. "I actually took a gap year after high school, so I'm 24."</p><p>"Oh."</p><p>"Yeah." But a mom of a 7 year old, at only 23? Beca must have been... young, to put it mildly, when she got pregnant. Not that she's judging her or anything, but Chloe can't help but wonder how deeply that changes someone's life.</p><p>"So," Beca says, clearing her throat, "what do you--"</p><p>"This is boring!" Emily whines. "Can't we just eat the banana pudding already?"</p><p>"Oh, yeah. Let me grab some plates." Beca grabs some paper plates and plops them down on the table. She grabs a spoon too and starts scooping out pudding.</p><p>"Anyways, what do you study?"</p><p>"Music education," Chloe says with a grin. "I'm actually doing my student teaching now. It's full time, over at Woodlawn Middle."</p><p>"Cool, I actually used to be really into mixing myself."</p><p>"Cool!"</p><p>"Yeah, but I don't really have time for it anymore." Beca pauses in thought. "Woodlawn, I think that's the school we're zoned for. If we stay in the area, I mean."</p><p>"It's not as bad as people say it is."</p><p>Beca shrugs. "It'd be cool if you could be her teacher."</p><p>"Maybe," Chloe says. "Middle school is fine and all, but it's with the little ones that my passion lies. The middle schoolers are so talkative. I end up making my voice go hoarse trying to get their attention most of the time."</p><p>Beca laughs a little at that. "That might be true, but let me tell you, elementary schoolers ain't any better." She takes a bite of the banana pudding. "Holy shit, this is amazing. This is like the best banana pudding ever."</p><p>Chloe glows a little at that. Grandma always said the key to making friends was being able to make good food.</p><p>Emily is less impressed though. She just sort of shrugs, and gives Chloe a look. A "I-know-you-want-to-fuck-my-mom-but-I'm-not-going-to-have-any-of-it-and-she's-straight-anyways-so-just-leave-already" kind of look. Or at least, that's what Chloe reads into it. Probably not what the kid is thinking though, at least according to her child psych classes.</p><p>"Thanks, it's actually my grandma's recipe," Chloe says simply.</p><p>"You should totally invite her over sometime then," Beca says, raising her eyebrows conspiratorially, "I'd love to try her other things."</p><p>"Oh, um, she's actually dead," Chloe says, wincing as soon as the words leave her mouth. Beca wilts a little. "But," Chloe quickly continues, "I could totally make you some more of her recipes sometime."</p><p>"That'd be really great." Beca sighs and rubs at her face. "I know this is awkward since we barely know each other, but can I vent to you for a sec?"</p><p>"Sure thing," Chloe says, slipping more pudding into her mouth. "It's what neighbors are for."</p><p>"Did you catch much of that phone call, on the stairs?"</p><p>"Not much. Just enough to know that it wasn't good."</p><p>"Basically, my boss is being an asshole and now I've gotta work weekends, and I can't really afford a babysitter for Emily while I'm at work, and I can't afford to lose this job, and I don't know what to do."</p><p>"Sounds like a crappy boss."</p><p>"Yeah, she's mean as--" Beca glances over at her kid and changes her sentence mid-thought "--hell. And I just don't know what to do about it."</p><p> Chloe hums a little in thought. "Do you have any friends who could look after her while you're at work?"</p><p>"Not really. Being a single mom doesn't afford a whole lot of time for that. Only people I'm really close with are some of my co-workers at the diner, and I know they're too slammed to look after Emily too."</p><p>Chloe doesn't even think before the words blurt out of her. "I'll watch her!"</p><p>Beca frowns. "Don't you have like... a life or something?"</p><p>Chloe pales. "Well-- I've been pretty free on the weekends lately." Beca had already gotten to the heart of it. Chloe is a lonely weirdo right now with no social life for the first time since starting college, since all of her aca-friends had graduated and left last year, leaving her sad and alone in a small, dying Southern college town. But Beca didn't need to know that. So she deflects. "And besides, I told you I wanted to work with kids Emily's age. This will be good practice!"</p><p>"No, I mean, I appreciate it and all." Beca says, leaning back in her chair. "How much do you want for it? Because I can't pay much, and I mean, I really can't pay like anything at all, but I can pay a little bit, I guess, or something" Beca babbles.</p><p>Crap. Chloe hadn't even thought about getting paid for it. But it's probably a good thing Beca brought it up, because she's broke af anyways and it would be weird to babysit a virtual stranger's kid for free, right? "What's the lowest you feel comfortable paying?"</p><p>"Seriously? I'm not a charity case."</p><p>"I know," Chloe assures her. "But I don't want this to feel like a financial burden on you. Think of it as a neighbor helping a neighbor. And besides, like I said, I love kids."</p><p>Emily shoots her a devious little smirk that seems to imply that she's going to make Chloe start to believe otherwise. Chloe gives the kid an unadulterated smile of sunshine back. The kid just stares back definitely.</p><p>"I can do..." Beca winces. "Twenty bucks a day? Plus whatever food you can scrounge up here? I have some staples in the pantry."</p><p>"Sure." Twenty bucks is seriously low, but she'll do it. For some stupid god damn reason she's not entirely sure of yet.</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"Really," Chloe confirms.</p><p>They shake on it, and Chloe starts mentally running through activities she can do with Emily tomorrow.</p><p>She's totally got this.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>btw I know that I mentioned Chloe's "aca-friends," but moving forward, don't think that named characters from the bellas are her aca-friends. they've all gone and graduated for the most part</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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